L’Heure Folle X by Cartier. Full 180 Degree Turn

Hi there Crew, L’Heure Folle X by Cartier was originally a hard no for me. There was something in its make up that used to give me the heebee geebees. It may even have been March’s Perfume Posse review that sent me down the dark path of dislike. Anyway, her canned fruit analogy had me smelling ptomaine poisoning when I tried it too. Let’s skitch forward to the relatively near now. I was in at Cartier buying a bottle of another one of the L’Heure series and the lovely gent serving me said his favourite was X. Not remembering my previous distaste for it I gave myself a couple of decent blasts and walked out the door. Thinking what an absolute doll he’d been and loving this weird assed fragrance, which I now indelibly think of as his scent. So while doing some shopping a few months ago on FragranceNet I saw a tester bottle for under 1/3 of what a full presentation costs me here in Oz I jumped on it SO FAST! I just looked and they still have a few. SHH!

L’Heure Folle X by Cartier 2009

Fragrantica gives these featured accords:
Blueberry, Grenadine, Ivy, Red Currant, Black Currant, Boxwood, Violet, Pink Pepper

While this will not resonate with our Northern Hemisphere readers it’s currently 37C (98.6F) and incredibly humid here in Sydney. We’ve had a gloriously rainy summer so far and the sunshine is sucking the water out of the ground and it’s like walking through a fish tank.

That has me reaching for the cooling, sweet beauty of L’Heure Folle X. It’s funny, now that I love it my nose can’t even remember how much I hated it.

The opening is a chill fruity gelato. So sweet it’s sharp. Vibrant and fun but so beautifully blended. I can’t really taste the exact fruits but L’Heure Folle X has that crystalline effect of really good gelato. Cleansing and refreshing.

Through the heart the fruits are joined by greenery. It’s a broken twig and leaf scent. Very green. Do you ever trim your hedge with electric clippers? That scent, even with the very faint zing of metal. The fragrance maintains this stasis for the rest of it’s life till fade.

Unisex but leaning traditional modern femme. I think the ivy keeps the whole fragrance smack bang on for both sexes. Average longevity and not very large projection but it is noticeable.

Sound like something you’d wear?
Portia xx

 

 

 

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In the Search for the Perfect Carnation

 

Through my childhood carnation was considered an official flower. Probably because of their resilience and color (red – the color of the 1917 Revolution, the anniversary of which was just a couple of days ago) carnation bouquets were traditionally brought to monuments of political leaders, used in decorating official gatherings and as funeral flowers. People were buying them for personal use as well but they always had a little stigma about them being too official and not personal enough. I remember one patriotic song’s refrain:

Red carnation is a troubled times companion;
Red carnation is our flower!

I didn’t dislike carnations but wasn’t too fond of them either. Those still were flowers, which meant better than no flowers at all, but not the first… let’s say five choices.

Soviet October Revolution Postcard

I have to mention also that the art of making real bouquets – as the opposite to just putting several stems in a bunch – didn’t come to the country where I grew up until I was well into my adulthood. Just so that you could feel the depth of it: I got married holding a cellophane cone with a bunch of (extremely expensive!) long-stemmed roses. And that was how it was done back then; it wasn’t some eccentricity on my part.

My perception of carnation had changed on my wedding day. In lieu of flower decorations it was customary for guests to bring flowers as a gift to the bride. There were many bundles of flowers, mostly roses. Some relatives brought me a huge bouquet of white carnations with greenery. It wasn’t done for me. They did it because they were very wealthy and wanted to stand out in the crowd (can you tell how I feel about them?). But regardless of their intentions they impressed me: it was one of the most beautiful bouquets I’d seen by then. And because of the mentioned above natural resilience of carnation that white-green composition well outlived all the roses we hauled home after the celebration. The bouquet below is just an illustration, “my” was three times bigger and even more beautiful.

Carnations Bouquet

Carnation isn’t the most popular note in perfumes. There are not that many soliflores or carnation-centered perfumes. I wasn’t really looking for the perfect carnation scent but I tested those that came my way.

Vitriol d’oeillet by Serge Lutens – created in 2011 by Christopher Shedrake, notes include clove, pepper, carnation, Gillyflower, woody notes, powdery notes and sweet notes. I won a decant of Vitriol d’oeillet in a giveaway on Ines’ blog (All I am – a redhead). Carnation – check! Woody notes – check! Sweet notes (whatever it means) – check. Altogether… it’s a nice and calm (despite the name) carnation perfume that I wish had a better longevity. I like it and wear sometimes but I do not see myself going beyond a bigger decant that I bought recently.

Terracotta Voile d’Ete by Guerlain – created in 1999 by Jean-Paul Guerlain and Mathilde Laurent, notes include bergamot, jasmine, mint, carnation, heliotrope, lily, pear, rose, iris root, vanilla and ylang-ylang. Lovely Tara (Olfactoria’s Travels) sent me a generous sample of this perfume. Terracotta Voile d’Ete is a warm and spicy perfume with a prominent carnation note. It’s not as transparent as Vitriol d’oeillet and has a much better tenacity. I like it as a scent but I’m not sure if I want to wear this perfume.

Eau Eternelle by Poncet – created in 2011, notes include grapefruit, jasmine, lemon, mandarin, petit grain, carnation, lavender, pink lotus, rosemary, water lily, clove, guaiac wood, moss, patchouli and sandalwood. Eau Eternelle is one of those perfumes with which I feel puzzled comparing the notes list to what I smell. The first second after the application I smell an interesting floral burst but really for just a second. Then – a relatively boring scent. Some lily, some carnation… It’s never unpleasant, just completely unremarkable and not memorable. Did it really require all those ingredients to create this?!

Oeillets Rouge by DSH Perfumes – created by Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, notes include bergamot, green peppercorn, nutmeg, beeswax, carnation, amber, ambergris, myrrh and vanilla. My sample came from Joanne (Redolent of Spices). Oeillets Rouge is a very believable carnation scent. I liked it when I tested it first but now it smells to me as a prototype, a pencil draw for the perfume I describe next.

Euphorisme d’Opium by DSH Perfumes  – created in 2012 by Dawn Spencer Hurwitz as a part of the Tribute to YSL collection, notes include aldehydes, bay leaf, bitter orange, mandarin, peach, pimento, pink pepper, Bulgarian rose, carnation, cinnamon, clove, amber, Atlas cedarwood, benzoin (styrax), civet, incense, Indian patchouli, musk, myrrh and vanilla. Don’t let that plethora of notes confuse you: this is a carnation-centered perfume. Too bad that “pissed-off carnation” name had been already taken: in my opinion, it would have suited this fragrance much better than Serge Lutens’ one. I sample it from a dab vial sent to me by the perfumer and thought it was a very powerful perfume. I’m not sure I could stand it sprayed – this is how intense it is. I’m still testing Euphorisme d’Opium trying to figure out if I should go for a bottle of it – while it’s still available.

I tried Bellodgia by Caron but either my sample is too… vintage or my nose isn’t trained enough but I’m not getting a carnation from it.

Carnations

Do you like carnations?

 

Images: not a single one is mine, I found them all through a search engine but I can’t find proper attribution.

Baiser Volé by Cartier

On my recent visit to Nordstrom the friendly SA slipped into my shopping bag two samples of the new perfume by CartierBaiser Volé.

First – Cartier isn’t one of the houses that I have any sentimental connection to, I’ve never owned or even liked any of their perfumes. Second – I usually do not test mass market perfumes right away: I get them, stash away, try the perfume during my next trip to a store on a blotter and then, if I liked it enough, maybe, at some point I might test it on my skin. I don’t know what happened this time. I blame Dee with her mainstream scents testing (this and this). And the SA who was so enthusiastic about getting this perfume and being able to give me a sample (she was telling me about it a month ago and waited for it to arrive). So last weekend I mentally mapped my escape route to the sink with hot water and sprayed Baiser Volé on my wrist.

LilyCreated in 2011 by Mathilde Laurent, Baiser Volé is all about lily. It starts with a strong burst of a lily scent. It smells like those lilies in a bouquet which you’re not supposed to leave in the room where you sleep (has anyone tried it ever? I haven’t but I remember that rule from when I was a kid). The smell is so intense that it’s impossible to say if it’s natural or artificial. In 10 minutes it calms down to … more lily accompanied by some synthetic peppery note.  And then (in 2-3 hours) it dries down to … yep, even more lily. Somewhere in all that there is a powdery aspect but I can’t remember exactly on which stage I smelled it and I’m not testing it for the third time.

I wore Baiser Volé on its own first and then side by side with Pur Desir de Lys by Yves Rocher. They are very different in the first 10 minutes when Cartier’s creation is much more intense and loud but after that, without knowing which wrist was sprayed with which perfume, I would have had a really hard time telling them apart. Unfortunately, Yves Rocher discontinued its lily perfume and though it still can be found on eBay, its price isn’t that much more attractive than the price of a new perfume from Cartier. And the latter has a better designed bottle.

So, if you really like lily and want to wear a soliflore based on this flower, Baiser Volé might be not a bad choice. For me it’s too simple and… too much. I didn’t get a headache but I was bored. And, in addition to that, the name annoys me. Why a Stolen Kiss? What does a loud, blaring scent of a lily have to do with a daring but still tender moment which I imagine when thinking of a stolen kiss? I have no idea. If this perfume were to symbolize a behavior I would say it calls for a restraining order.

 
Image: my own